The unsuccessful novel reminds of a top that has been spinning for a while. One can see the chapters begin to wander in loose, uneven circles. Pacing grows shaky. Events are rushed through, so that they are a mere catalog of plot happenings, or scenes lose momentum as the narration gets snagged on an idea. Characterization becomes wobbly. Motives do not convince. Actions no longer reveal new dimensions of personality. Language falters. And finally the novel topples over into a contrives or commonplace ending and comes to a skittery halt.

Chitra Divakaruni

(I’m reminded of Randal Jarrell’s wry, nifty definition of a novel as “a prose narrative of some length that has something wrong with it”)

Brad Leithauser

Chekhov removed the plot. Pinter, elaborating, removed the history, the narration. Beckett, the characterization. We hear it anyway.

All writers know how hard it is to practice tough love on the children of our verbiage. Kick the silly, labored metaphor out of the house. But with a computer, that metaphor is back by dinner time, claiming a rightful place in the family of the final draft.

P.J. O’Rourke

Poetry is the great schoolhouse of fiction…

Red Warren

The most common shortcoming in good novels nowadays is excess; many of them should be fifty pages shorter than they are.

Anna Quindlen

Writers on Writing Volume II More Collected Essays from The New York Times Introduction by Jane Smiley 267 pagina’s Henry Holt and Company, 2003